Chicago
by Harper008
Summary: d/c. a standalone inspired by the movie 'Sweet Home Alabama' as well as the song 'Chicago' by Frank Sinatra. In which Doug and Carol rediscover themselves and their city.


-The idea for this story came from the movie 'Sweet Home Alabama' and is based loosely on that film. If you've never seen it it's okay, just take the story as it comes. It's also based on the song 'Chicago' by Frank Sinatra.

-In a way this is also a spin on the whole Doug/Carol's past thing, which was never clearly discussed on the show, so here's another interpretation of it all.

-Anything in italics is a flashback/memory.

-And I know that it seems to jump around a lot, but I just let this one go on it's own, and that's how it turned out. I didn't want it to be a series, so I think it actually works.

-This is the first ER fic that I've posted at ff.net. If you'd like to read more you can find them at my site: geocities.com/erfanfic_19999

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**Chicago****;**

by breigh.

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I saw a man, he danced with his wife

In Chicago, Chicago my home town.

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_"What are we going to do?" She ran her hands back through her thick curls, staring at the stick as though it were some evil token._

_"Marriage." He hesitated only slightly, not knowing any other solution besides that. He loved her, for days, months, years. They had always assumed that in time they would end up together, but now, just out of high school and with their futures already set they were faced with casting off future dreams and making a life-long commitment._

_"What?" She turned to him suddenly, her cheeks tear stained, yet his eyes held nothing. "Are you serious? What about medical school? What about getting out of here?" She turned quickly to the window, glancing out across the run-down Suburban __Chicago__ town._

_"__Chicago__'s not too bad. It's a nice city." He said more to convince himself that everything was going to be okay. _

_"But you wanted fresh air, you wanted the west coast." She spoke his dreams, suddenly feeling guilty._

_"Well, instead we'll have a wedding. A little place in the city with a crib in the corner and a stroller in the closet." He spoke the words almost mechanically – this was how he was supposed to act, this was the role he'd assumed in the relationship. He was the rock, the constant, and she relied on him._

_For her, the baby was an end. Her dreams, the things she thought about at night, the life she envisioned were suddenly smothered by this little unborn child and her supposed "wedding." This wasn't how she imagined it – maybe years later they would be together, later when they were both established, both doing what they wanted they would be able to come together. But now, just out of high school and with a child on the way she looked at herself as nothing more than a wife, her dreams disintegrating with the title._

_"What if…" She trailed off, looking away from his 'happy' smile. He was a great actor, he always had been._

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_'Chicago, Chicago that toddling town'_

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He kicked the little grey rock between his feet, burying his hands into his coat pockets as he awaited the incoming Ambulance. 

"Cold, isn't it?" The young med-student with perfect pressed scrubs and the cleanest white jacket attempted a conversation.

"Always is this time of year." He spoke the obvious, clearing his throat as a cold wind found its way through the city.

"I wanted to go where it was warm." He spoke hesitantly as the ambulance backed into the ambulance bay and the doors swung open.

"I always wanted to go to the west cost." He cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the little boy who was being lifted from the back of the ambulance. "Hey pal, I'm Dr. Ross." He checked the child's vitals before giving him a reassuring smile. "You're going to be fine."

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'_Chicago__, __Chicago__ I will show you around - I love it'_

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She loved how different things were on the shores of Maryland, and although it had been nearly eight years she was still so drawn to the beauty and loveliness of it all. She marveled at the way the water seemed to just engulf the sun at the end of the day, and how the beauty of the Chesapeake appeared to be never-ending. 

As she sat on the shores of Maryland, watching the gentle waves and the tranquil boaters she couldn't help but think of how far Chicago was, and with the distance of the windy city came the haunting memory of all that had and had not happened there.

"Here you are." He made his way carefully down the slight hill, walking to her and kissing her cheek gently before sitting next to her in the vacant white chair. 

"Yeah, I came up early, I hope you don't mind." She smiled to him quickly, his green eyes and dirty blonde hair were such the contrast of her brown past. She glanced back at the large vacation house and then back to him, still amazed that she was able to find someone so remarkable – someone who gave her everything and made her so happy.

"Of course I don't mind." He shook his head. "I wanted you to see the sunset, and I didn't think I'd be here in time." He added.

"How'd it go?" She took notice to his unbuttoned polo shirt and loose tie.

"Fine." He shrugged. "It's going to be a long one though." He referred to the current trial he was prosecuting. "How about you? How was your day?" He reached over and placed a hand on her leg.

"Okay." She nodded, thinking back over her day. "There's a flu or something going around, so there were a lot of kids in today." She smiled.

"Well then, you must be hungry." He got up slowly and stood before her extending his hand. "And I've made us some dinner." He smiled, somewhat nervous, as she took his hand and they headed  up to the house she took one more look back down to the water, back down to the place where she'd successfully come to burry her past and build a future.

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    _'Bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in Chicago, Chicago'_

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The apartment itself was dark, yet the lights from the city filled it with an eerie glow. With a deep sigh he kicked off his shoes and flicked the light on to reveal a skimpily decorated apartment. The walls were bleak white, the couch old and worn and a little table pushed up against the wall with two chairs substituted for a dining room table. He admitted that he had no decorating skill, but he felt as though the view of the beautiful city made up for that.

It was odd to him, at times, how in a city of so many he could still feel so lonely. He had been thinking about _it _a lot lately; thinking about her, thinking about their conversations, thinking about their wedding. She had left so suddenly, doing what was right for her, but leaving him with so many issues still outstanding. And on a day like today, when everyone was coming and going he remembered everything so vividly, even if he did not want to.

Slowly he walked to the closet, opening it gently and placing his coat inside. He paused for a moment, looking at the contents and seeing nothing more than old tennis shoes, some cases of beer and tattered coats. He shook his head, mumbling under his breath;

"A stroller wouldn't even fit in here." He said referring to the conversation he'd had over 8 years ago with the woman he hadn't seen since.

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_'The town that Billy Sunday couldn't shut down'_

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_"I need to get out of here." Was how she greeted him as he walked into their bedroom to find her packing two large suitcases and a duffle bag. _

_"Excuse me?" He asked baffled, placing the dozen roses in his hand down on the dresser._

_"This isn't right." She shook her head, looking towards him. "I need more than this, Doug. I need a change."_

_"But, we're married." He didn't know what else to say. "Carol, we're married." He saw marriage as something you drug through the dirt, beat up, lost, loved and would always come back to._

_"This isn't a marriage. It's something we felt obligated to do – we were trying to do the right thing, and we did. But it's over." She shook her head, blinking back the tears in her eyes. "There's no baby anymore – there's nothing keeping me here."_

_"Me." He said quietly, walking towards her._

_"You love me now because I'm leaving. You loved me before because I was pregnant." She hesitated. "You have conditional love, there always has to be a reason – and I'm not sticking around in this place, in this city, hoping that there will always be some reason. I want more than that."_

_"15 years!" He felt as though his life was walking out. He was looking forward to a baby, to an actual family, but when she lost the baby he felt things begin to crumble, and now he watched as he was beginning to loose her. _

_"It's a number, like one, or six, or 35. You can't use that as an excuse." She picked her bags up and walked past him to the door. "This is what's best for both of us." She smiled sadly. The moment she lost the baby she felt as though she had to do something – like she had to change something._

_"I don't agree with you." He shook his head. Carol leaned over, kissing his rough cheek._

_"Go to medical school. Move to the west cost, take back the stroller and fold up the crib."_

_"I don't want to." He objected as she opened the door._

_"You need to." She finished simply, walking out of the door, out of the city, and out of her 'life'._

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_'On State Street, that great street, I just want to say'_

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"You look beautiful." Gibson spoke slowly, taking a sip of his wine before reaching into his pocket.

"Why thank you." Her pale skin blushed to a light shade of red.

"I know that it hasn't been very long," He started, "But this just feels right, and I don't want to loose this, or you." He paused for a minute, revealing the little black velvet box, opening its lid and pushing it across the table. "My life is with you. I love you more than I ever knew I could love anyone – or anything for that matter."

"Oh God." She spoke hesitantly, knowing what was coming, and what it would bring – and unwanted visit to her past.

"Carol Hathaway, will you marry me?" She took a deep breath, caught completely off-guard by the large diamond before her.

"Gibson, I – I don't know. Don't you think this is soon?" She felt her lies beginning to unravel.

"I'm going to love you now just as much as I will 2 years from now – so why should we wait? It's just a number." She felt her heart stop for a moment, remembering when she spoke those same words to Doug nearly eight years ago. 

"Yes." She said simply after a long hesitation, and he smiled happily, slipping the diamond ring onto her finger.

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_'They do things they don't do on Broadway'_

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"You're not going to call me again, are you?" She gathered her things, slipping on her jacket as she placed her purse over her shoulder.

"Hm?" Doug mumbled, she'd caught him off-guard.

"This was nice, but not what you're looking for, right?" She smiled, and he nodded. "You really do have a beautiful view." She commented before leaving him with a smile.

He shut the door behind her, running his hands over his face. The view of the city he never imagined living in was suddenly the only thing he had. It suddenly began to bother him as he walked quickly to the window and shut the curtains hastily before walking into the kitchen and removing a packet of papers from one of the drawers.

He had read them each time she'd sent them, he'd read them, he'd understood them, but he was unable to actually sign them. Although she was gone, and had been for quite some time, the past was still successfully seducing him. 

"Sorry." He mumbled, placing the unsigned papers into a large envelope and scribbling her address on the front.

She had given up eight years ago, but he still wasn't ready to.

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_'They have the time, the time of their life'_

------

She slapped the enveloped down on the counter, placing her hand over her face and exhaling deeply. Shaking her head she heard him coming downstairs and quickly she shoved the papers into the bottom drawer.

"Hey baby." He walked up behind her, kissing her sweetly.

She hated him for doing this to her – for forcing her to remember and making her return.

"I need to go to Chicago." She spoke quickly, her words running together.

"What? Why?" Gibson took a step back as Carol handed him a cup of coffee.

"I need to talk to my mom about everything." She smiled, attempting to convince him that it was the truth, but knowing that it was anything but.

"Oh, well." He hesitated for a minute, taking a sip of the dark black coffee. "I'd go with you, but with the trial and everything I can't leave. If you'd wait a few weeks I may be able to go. I've always wanted to see Chicago-"

"Gibson, I won't be long." She interrupted him. "I'll be a few days – a week at the most. And then I'll be home and we can start planning the wedding." Carol walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly. "I love you." She whispered.

"Love you too." He kissed her again, running his hands down her face. "Have fun in Chicago – I'll miss you."

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_'I saw a man, he danced with his wife in Chicago'_

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It was comforting to her, in a sense, that the city seemed unchanged. There were still people trying to find their way home, still strong, tall, independent buildings and still the chilling wind which seemed to find each person and surround them individually. And the nights were still never really dark, not like Maryland, which gave night a new meaning. Chicago nights were different, they were filled with distant light and lost souls – people wandered the streets in search of something, most still unsure of what that something was.

She ascended the stairs slowly, hesitantly, going over her part of the conversation in her head. It was so easy to hate him, to forget him, and to move on without seeing him, but now she was forced to face him, and she didn't know how things were going to work themselves out.

She knocked quickly and waited for someone to answer.

Silence.

She knocked again, swift and hard and then took a step back.

Silence.

Taking a deep breath she knocked one last time, but before she could finish the door was opened and he was standing before her.

His hair was shorter than she remembered, and greyer too. The lines on his face had increased and grown deeper, but his eyes were still the same. They were hollow, in a sense, still looking at the world in terms of a questions, still searching and pondering an answer.

"Carol?" He didn't know what to do, but her frown immediately sent him into defense mode. What he wanted to say and how he needed to act were two completely different things, but for the sake of himself he opted for cruel indifference.

"I've sent you these over a hundred times." She pulled the papers out of her bag and waved them before him. He didn't react immediately, instead he looked her over, noticing her perfectly sculpted curls, her pure white skin, and noticing that her new little life in Maryland had done her some good – she seemed happy, put together.

"Yeah, and I've spent hundreds in postage sending them back." He said blankly.

"Sign them." She forced the papers into his hand. 

"Why?"

"Why? Because we haven't been together in over eight years, but we're still **married_._" She paused, exhaling. "I don't understand why this is so hard for you to understand. We got married for a reason, and there was no reason to stay married after…" She trailed off. "We don't have a marriage, we can barely have a conversation. So, please, sign the damn papers so that I can go home."**

"Why?" He looked her over again, taking note of the urging of her words. "Getting married again?" He reached for her hand and turned the solid silver band around to reveal a large diamond on the other side. "Now, why would you want to hide a rock like that?" 

"Doug, sign the papers." She spoke through clenched teeth.

"I'll need to look at them and talk to my lawyer." As he finished she grabbed the papers out of his hand and leafed through them.

"Look, right here." She pointed to the line. "Husband, Mr. Douglas Ross. Just sign there. You're not loosing anything – in fact, you're gaining something."

"Dr. Douglas Ross." He stated simply, grabbing the papers back.

"Excuse me?"

"I went to medical school. Took back the stroller, folded up the crib – but never made it to the west coast." His words were bitter and drawn out. She took a moment, processing it all.

"Well, Dr. Ross…" She didn't know where else to go with the conversation, so she left it up to him.

"I'll look at them." He retreated back into his apartment.

"Uh, thank you." She mumbled, still caught off-guard by his previous statement. She was well aware that coming back to Chicago meant coming back to her past – but his words threw her directly back to eight years ago, and she wasn't ready for the suddenness of it all.

"Yeah." He walked backwards into his apartment and turned his back to her, shutting his door with a bang.

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_'Chicago my home town'_

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"Can I help you?" The short red-head asked, her eyes covered by thin-framed glasses.

"Maybe." She paused, glancing around quickly. "Does Dr. Ross work here?" She received an unwelcomed glance and then the woman turned to the large man behind her.

"Jerry! Help this woman, please. She's looking for Doug." She screeched, grabbing a chart and heading off down the hall.

"Um, hi." The man who she'd assumed was Jerry walked towards her, handing her a clip board. "Take a seat and fill this out. Dr. Ross will be with you in a little bit. What's your child's name?" He picked up a pen.

"Child?"

"Dr. Ross is a pediatrician – usually people have a child with them if they come looking for him." He explained.

"Oh." She thought things through for a moment – he was a pediatrician. "Oh. No." She shook her head, handing him back the clipboard. "I'm not here for that. I need to talk to him."

"Oh, sorry." He apologized. "Why don't you take a seat in chairs and when I see him I'll let him know that you're here…" He trailed off, realizing that she had not given her name.

"Carol. Carol Hathaway." She finished for him before walking across to the pseudo-waiting room.

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_'Chicago, Chicago that toddlin' town'___

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"What're you doing here?" She turned quickly to see him standing before her – his blue scrubs and stethoscope hanging around his neck, and various stickers on his shirt. She smiled internally, knowing how much he'd wanted this.

"You're a pediatrician?" She stood up. "I thought you wanted to be in general surgery."

"Things changed." He looked away, knowing that she was able to read him like an open book, and she shook her head, knowing his reasons.

"Well." She breathed deeply. "Did you sign them?"

"No." He answered simply.

"No? Doug, c'mon, what are you trying to do here?"

"Nothing." His indifference bothered her.

"Why are you still holding onto this, huh? We were over before we began – we were a mistake."

"You really believe that?" His response was his gut reaction.

"Dr. Ross!" A little boy called to him, running towards them.

"Micha! Hey buddy, how're you doing? How's that arm?" Doug turned away from Carol and lifted Micha into his arms.

"Okay. Look how many people I gots to sign it!" He exclaimed, showing Doug his arm proudly.

"I've got to go." He spoke quickly, turning away.

"You want to be married?" She called after him, but he continued walking away. "Then we'll be married, dear!" And with that she left, walking quickly out of the hospital and towards his apartment.

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    _'Chicago, Chicago I'll show you around - I love it'_

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She had always been good at talking, always good with words and convincing people of things that were not necessarily true, and this skill had helped her convince his landlord into letting her into his apartment. Once inside she began moving things around, adding things to what little he had and changing his apartment into 'their' apartment. 

If he refused to sign the papers, then she would change his life to the point where he'd be forced into wanting to sign them. Throwing a blanket over the couch, adding flowers over the fireplace and placing dinner on the table proved for a quick change, while some other more permanent changes helped in the transformation.

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    _'Bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in Chicago, __Chicago__'_

------

He opened the door slowly, switching on the lights and throwing his keys aside as he kicked off his shoes. It had been a long day, both physically and mentally, and he had just enough time to jump in the shower before leaving for his date.

"Carol? What…" He was immediately caught off-guard by his new apartment, and the fact that Carol was standing amidst it.

"Welcome home, honey. How was your day?"

"What the hell did you do?!" He looked quickly around the unfamiliar apartment.

"Made a few changes, ya know." She shrugged with a smile.

"How – How did you get in here?"

"I met Mrs. Lawson. She's a nice woman." She spoke slowly, the papers in her hand.

"I can't believe you did this!" He stopped for a minute to collect himself. "This place has needed decorating for a while now." He smiled deviously.

"Excuse me?" She asked, caught off-guard by his reaction.

"I have a date to get ready for." He walked away quickly while she collapsed back onto the couch, at a loss for words.

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    _'The town that Billy Sunday could not shut down'_

------

She approached them slowly, seeing the blonde smile and touch him bothered her in a way she never imagined it would. Something started nagging her as she looked up at the stars among the towering buildings, and the way she seemed to be slipping back into this city scared her. She had convinced herself for so long that being out on the water, that being away from the hustle and bustle of the city was what she wanted. But, she had forgotten the feeling of the wind as it found its way through the buildings, she forgot how beautiful the lights were, how lovely the stars were.

It was easier for her to think of the negative of all these things, but as she walked back through the city and allowed herself to be part of it all she realized how much she really did miss it. And maybe, as she watched him with other women, watched him with children, watched him in the hospital – living his dream, she realized that maybe she did miss him too. 

"Hi, honey." She interrupted them, and he turned to her sharply.

"Carol, what are you doing here?" He closed his eyes briefly, hoping that she'd be gone when he went to open them again.

"Hi, you must be Doug's date." She extended her hand. "I'm Carol Ross." Doug stopped, turning to her slowly, remembering the last time she used his name, and it immediately brought back everything he had been suppressing since she showed up two days prior. "Doug's wife."

The woman said nothing else, but got up quickly, walking swiftly towards the exit as Doug rose slowly, pulling forty dollars out of his pocket and leaving it on the table before leaving the restaurant, Carol following him closely.

"You want your papers signed, is that it? You want to just push me down farther, ruin me again?" He spoke loudly, knowing that she was still behind him as he walked swiftly down Michigan Avenue, coming to a stop at the water.

"I want a chance to live my life."

"Was it really that bad?" He turned to her quickly, and she noticed the tears in his eyes, and for the first time she saw more than the hollow, dark brown reflection they usually held. She didn't know how to answer, so they stood in silence for a little while as she slid closer to him, finally finding herself within his arms.

"I wanted it to be worse – you know, make my reasons for leaving more justifiable." She began to explain. "I'm happy there though, it's so different than Chicago."

"I know." He lowered his head, turning away to see the large boats passing the harbor.

"You know?" She questioned hesitantly.

"I went out there, thinking that maybe if I saw what you saw it would change me like it did you. Maybe it would bring us together." To this she said nothing, she didn't know what to say. "Do you ever think about what it would be like, ya know, if…"

"Sometimes. I try not to, but sometimes I can't help it." Her past was now so much a part of her that she was beginning to fear it.

"I think about it a lot." He admitted. "We were supposed to get through it though." He shook his head, and she knew what he meant. 

No one spoke for quite sometime, and while he was swimming in the memories she was drowning in them.

"What's his name?" He questioned apprehensively.

"Gibson." She answered simply.

"I hope he makes you happy." He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You have your divorce. You can go back to Maryland, watch the boats, sit in the dark, run away." He didn't know how he wanted to come off, so with those words intended to be his last he left.

He only got a few feet before hearing her cry, and the sound stopped him dead in his tracks. Turning quickly he practically ran back to her, taking her into his arms.

She accepted his embrace, not even sure why she was crying. She had escaped but she had not dealt with what she was escaping, and now it was all coming back to her, his words bringing everything to life and the city bringing everything to light.

"I never meant to hurt you – I was trying to save me." She apologized for the first time.

"Yeah, well. I was being too idealistic." He shrugged, squeezing her tightly. "We've known each other since we were 15. What's the fun in that? There's no searching." He cleared his throat. "It's too perfect."

"Yeah, pregnant when I'm 18, married when I'm 18, and a miscarriage when I'm 19. That's perfect." She laughed ironically.

"We just didn't work through it." He began, amazed at how easy the words were coming. "And maybe I didn't sign the papers because I didn't want to acknowledge it, or at least acknowledge that I'd lost you. You know about denial – it can be a great thing."

"It can." She agreed with a laugh.

"It turned out for the best though. I never knew that I fit in Chicago like I do, and I never knew how much I wanted to be a doctor. So, thank you – for that."

"I don't know anymore." She stepped back, wiping her eyes. "I thought I wanted to get out of here, I never knew what people saw in this place." She paused. "I never let myself see it. And now, I mean, Maryland is gorgeous, and Gibson – it's perfect, I think." She hesitated. "But when I got here, and I saw you…"

"I don't know how…" He trailed off, their lips meeting in a gentle, passionate kiss.

As they parted, she realized that she could run from Chicago, but she would never be able to escape him, which was conflicting with the life she was beginning to build with Gibson.

"Go back to Maryland." He decided for her. "The past should stay where it is." He punctuated his words with a sigh and this time left her standing alone, not allowing her tears to call him back.

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    _'On __State Street__, that great street, I just want to say'_

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"Hey there beautiful!" Gibson wrapped his arms around her as soon as she walked inside, spinning her around before kissing her softly.

"God, I missed you." Carol smiled, pushing the events of the past week farther back in her mind.

"I missed you too." He laughed, taking her bags from her. "I was looking at some churches on the water, I think you'd like some of them. And I talked to that place in Annapolis – they're open in June." 

"That's great!" She answered enthusiastically. 

"So, how was Chicago? How's your mother?"

"Chicago was nice. I never realized how much I missed it until I was back."

"We should go sometime, you could show me around." He wrapped his arms around her, and while she had no doubt that he loved her, there was still something different, something missing, from when she found herself in Doug's embrace.

"Yeah, you'd probably love it."

"I'm glad you liked it so much, you used to say that you would never go back." He reminded her, and she nodded.

"You don't realize how great something is until you re-visit it, I think." She pondered outloud.

"I think I can agree with that." He leaned in to kiss her once again. "God, I missed you." He pressed his forehead to her own. "How about you go and unpack and I'll make us some dinner, okay?"

"Sounds good to me." She pulled herself away, gathering her things and making her way upstairs.

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    _'They do things that they never do on Broadway – say'_

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It was rusted, he presumed, as he wiggled it back and forth, cursing at the little metal clip under his breath. The view had always been enough, the view of the buildings, the view of the water, the view of the distant park. But he'd awaken with a start, suddenly wanting more, suddenly feeling as though he couldn't breath.

He'd done what was right, he'd quelled his demon's. She walked out on him eight years ago, and finally two days ago he'd allowed her to leave. He justified her leaving, signed the papers to preserve her happiness and let her go just as she had done to him. 

Things were suppose to be getting better, but with each night he felt it getting worse.

"Fucking window." He slammed it with the bottom of his palm and heard it squeak. Slowly he tried once more, this time the clip slid down and he was able to push the window open, allowing the city to enter his apartment. Reaching into his pocket he removed a tiny black and white picture, the prominent reminder of his past.

Ripping the ultrasound picture into various pieces he placed them into his right hand and placed his arm out the window, and with the first strong breeze he opened his hand, allowing the pieces of the picture to scatter about outside before he watched them fall.

He'd been holding onto the past for so long that it had monopolized his present, hindered his future. He'd willingly let her go, he hugged her before she left, kissed her cheek before putting her on the plane. He hadn't been living for quite some time, rather existing. He'd allowed his life to be put on hold, waiting for her to come back or for something else to come along – and he was tired of waiting.

Chicago was cold, windy, and had large buildings and frantic people. The west coast, California at least, was sunny, and bright. People drove convertibles and played with their dogs on the beach. He wanted that, he wanted to get out of here, burying his past his Chicago and building a future in California.

His apartment was listed in the paper, his bleak apartment with the beautiful view of the city was something he was prepared to leave behind for something smaller, a studio on the beach, maybe with a surfboard in the corner. And maybe in California he would be able to find what he'd been looking for – maybe California held a future, a family, a life, because he was convinced that all Chicago had was memories.

------
    
    _'They have the time, the time of their life'_

------

"Sweetie, are you okay?" There was a gentle knock on the door, which awoke her from her nap.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry. I just fell asleep." She smiled, attempting to convince him that everything was okay.

"Alright, well, dinner's almost ready. Come down when you're finished." He smiled, closing the door behind him as she removed the packet of papers from her suitcase. Laying them on the bed she removed a pen from her purse, and leafed through them to find where she had to sign.

Taking a deep breath she signed the quickly, falling back onto the bed and holding them out before her. She thought she knew what she wanted when she came to Maryland, but in actuality she only knew what she didn't. She came for fresh air, a change of pace, and the intent to forget – but it hadn't worked. She was so upset when she saw him that the only emotion she could show was hatred, while what she wanted to show was the exact opposite.

Getting up she found her way downstairs and into the large kitchen where Gibson was awaiting her.

"Hi Darling." He spoke in his southern drawl. 

"Gibson, we need to talk." She didn't quite know where she had found the strength, or the reason to do this, but she knew that this wasn't right.

"Okay, is everything alright?"

"I was pregnant." She started abruptly, letting the conversation take its course.

"Mine? Or-"

"Eight years ago, in Chicago. I was pregnant, and I got married, and I had a miscarriage." She paused for a moment. "And I left. I thought that a change of scenery, a change of people and environment would change me into the person I wanted to be. Chicago represented everything I never wanted – or so I thought." Again, she hesitated. "But going back there I see that I ran from my past, but I never faced it. I was born in the city, I grew up taking the L. Coming back here after being out there just puts me farther away, and I don't want that anymore."

"Carol, what are you trying to say?"

"I think I love him. And I can't do this." She pointed back and forth between them. "Because I need what's out there. I miss the wind, the revitalization of it. I miss the buildings, the city by night. Gibson, you gave me everything I asked for – but with him, he gave me 20 years." She paused. "And it's not just a number…" She trailed off, not knowing what else to say, but as Gibson said nothing in rebuttal she realized that he was allowing her to go, just as he had allowed her to come.

"So then I guess…" He didn't know where to go with the conversation, or what to say about it.

"I'm so sorry." She shook her head.

"Go back to Chicago. Live in your city." He smiled ironically, and she hugged him sweetly.

"Thank you for helping me, you have no idea what you've done for me."

"Same here." He smiled, and she disappeared.

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_'__Chicago__ -- that's my home town'_

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He placed the tape around the last box, kicking it across the floor towards the other before taking a drink of water and looking around the emptied apartment.

There was a knock at the door, and assuming it was the moving men he walked quickly to answering it, not at all expecting the person on the other side.

"Um, hi." She smiled.

"What are you doing here?" He asked warily. "Did I forget to sign something?"

"No." She walked inside, not waiting for him to ask, and he shut the door behind her. "What's going on?" She asked, noticing the boxes throughout the apartment.

"I'm moving. To the west coast. I think I need to get out of here."

"That's what I thought." She answered slowly. "It doesn't work, believe me." She smiled and there was a long silence. "I came back once, almost a year after I left."

"You did?" He asked in a slight state of shock. A week ago he'd assumed she was gone forever, and now here she was again.

"I never left the airport though, I sat in there for like two hours before going and getting a ticket back to D.C. I couldn't face it, I didn't want to feel the wind, see the buildings, breath in the city. I didn't know what I was looking for, but as soon as I got off the plane I knew that I wasn't ready to find it."

He nodded, knowing what she had been going through.

"I'm ready now, though." Her voice shook with each word.

"Excuse me?"

"I ripped up the papers and left Gibson. Chicago, you, this…This is where I'm supposed to be. I never moved on, I just kinda…"

"Yeah." He smiled coyly. "I just packed all this stuff up though, I was finally getting out of here."

"Oh." She took a step backwards as he turned back towards the window.

"It does have a great view though." He crossed his arms across his chest, and she walked up behind him.

"And the closets are quite large – perfect for…"

"A stroller." They said in unison, and he turned to her, smiling.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, and he nodded, smiling from ear to ear.

"Changed things for the better, I think." He laughed, and she knew what he meant.

Their lips met sweetly, gently, passionately, and suddenly things were no longer viewed in terms of the past, but rather the future.

"You have a lot of unpacking to do." She laughed as he wiped the tears from her eyes.

"We can do that later." He walked over to the radio in the corner, and switched to a jazz station. "If I recall correctly we never did have a dance at our wedding." He smiled, and they both recalled the event which was nothing more than a ceremony and something they were forced to live through. They never did have a dance.

"You know how to dance?" She asked as he placed his arms around her waist.

"I learned – for you." He smiled softly.

"Thank you." She cried into his shirt, happy to be back after so long, surprised how much she wanted this after she'd convinced herself of the opposite for so long.

"Thank you." He placed his chin atop her head and they danced slowly to the music, as the open window allowed the windy city to surround them, and after trying so long to escape the city they found themselves enveloped in it.

Chicago was where it all had started, where it all had stayed, and where it all would continue. It was the city in which they had lost, found, and rediscovered each other, and it was the city in which they would stay.

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I saw a man, he danced with his wife

In Chicago, Chicago my home town.

--Chicago, Frank Sinatra.

------

End.


End file.
